


Freezing

by BookofOdym



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Huddling For Warmth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 11:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20152537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookofOdym/pseuds/BookofOdym
Summary: Oliver is hit by a stray blast from the cold gun, Mick and Len need to warm him up.





	Freezing

Cold.

Oliver was freezing.

He'd been hit by a blast from the cold gun, during a fight with a petty thug, and who would have guessed that Barry's rogues were in Star City, and looking for revenge on said petty thug.

He stepped into the shower and turned it on as high as it could go. Ordinarily, that would be too much, and he would be as red as a lobster in twenty minutes, but today, no matter how long he stayed in the shower, a pervasive sense of cold never entirely left him.

He stepped out of the shower, and eyed the wood fire in the corner of his apartment, but shook his head, it was too late in the year for that, and he had survived the island, where often he would be left soaked and shivering by the torrential rain. Nothing would ever be as bad as those nights in the cold, life in the city had just made him soft again.

Instead, he headed over to the closet where he kept his blankets and pulled out six or seven. Snuggling beneath them on the couch.

If he just spent the rest of the night catching up on TV, which he hadn't really done in years, then he would be fine the next morning.

About five minutes into a re-run of an old episode of the X-Files, there was a knock on his door.

Oliver groaned, staying where he was. If he was quiet, eventually they'd leave him alone.

The knock came again.

Then, when he still refused to answer the door, a gruff voice spoke. "Want me to burn the door down?" It asked.

Oliver had never gotten to the door so fast in his life, and he doubted that he would ever again.

Outside stood Mick Rory and Leonard Snart, the selfsame people who were responsible for his current predicament. Oliver found himself glad that he had left the chain on the door. "What do you want?" He asked, wincing at how tired he sounded.

"We're here to help," Snart said, his voice always sounded ever so slightly sarcastic, "let us in."

Oliver moved to shut the door.

A boltcutter was already clamped around the chain, Snart had pulled it out from beneath his parka, he'd moved to fast for even Oliver to see. A boot to the door had it swinging open.

"How are you feeling?" Snart said, as if he hadn't just broken into Oliver's home.

"Cold," The vigilante replied, "guess whose fault that is."

Cold had just nodded along, ignoring the insult that had been implied. "We can help with that."

So that was how Oliver found himself sandwiched between two criminals, wrapped up in their arms. Slowly but surely, the feeling of cold leaked out of the vigilante, and he soon found himself feeling quite comfortable. Rory lived up to his name, he practically radiated heat, and Oliver could have stayed pressed up against him for hours.

When Heatwave had first pressed up behind him, and the archer had collapsed into him bonelessly, he'd started to worry. What if Cold lived up to his name too? What if this was some kind of torture? What if they were trying to tell him that he should stay away from Barry. But Snart was warm too, Oliver hummed contentedly, nuzzling his nose into the criminal's pecs. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have done that, he would have been too worried that it would negatively impact his reputation, the two criminals could easily leave his apartment and go tell their friends about him.

But today, he found that he didn't care.

He was far too comfortable.


End file.
